To live beyond the sunrise!
Better you just dry those sopping-wet big eyes
What's the point in both of us weeping?
Surely you can't now coquettishly disguise…
The ways, in which I'm cut, the way I am bleeding…
Hide as you always have: Count daily the magpies?
Better you just dry those dual-copiloting empty eyes
Harden even more that propelled wooden heart.
For all its yearly ringed ambiguous lies…
They're no-more than death-nails sweetheart!
They're no-more than drawn-out salty goodbyes.
Better you just dry those sea-green tigress eyes
Look to where this new dawn for me will surly rise!
Look there! Where hurt erupts but now subsides…
Old-flame you can no-longer hope to hypnotize!
For within your tears little else than nothing, belies.
Better I then just dry my own two jaded eyes
Hide not as you would: Count not as you have.
Daily on this mystical earth the magpies?
But with one lover eternally anoint and salve
Embalm my soul to live beyond the sunrise!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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